


You Deserve This

by reluctant_abandon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, Naughty language, PWP, Punishment, Spanking, impala!sex, role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reluctant_abandon/pseuds/reluctant_abandon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets a spanking. Dean gets the Impala waxed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Deserve This

“Are you trying to piss me off?” Dean leaned against a tree several feet away and growled out the threat in a soft voice.

“No!” Sam didn't turn his head. He didn't look away from the Impala, just kept smoothing in the wax.

“I think you are.” He moved away from the tree, each threatening step loud as his boots crunched in the gravel. “I think you're trying to piss me off.”

“I'm sorry.” Sam bit his lip and raised his eyes, if not his bowed head, toward the quickly setting sun. If he didn't finish waxing the car perfectly by dusk he knew what his punishment would be. “Are you angry with me?”

“Yes.” Dean moved forward until he was looming, fully clothed, behind the very naked Sam. The only scrap of material on his body was a thick leather collar. “You're missing spots on purpose! Aren't you, bitch?”

“No!” He picked up his pace, already anticipating the punishment he knew was coming.

Because it wouldn't be good enough. It never was. It didn't matter how hard he worked. Dean was never happy. He'd come, his lips curved upward in a sneer and he'd taunt, hurt and tease. Sam was already hard, his body trembling in trepidation and heady longing.

“Time's up,” Dean growled.

Sam moved away from the Impala, his lower lip trapped between his teeth in shame. He hung his head and waited as Dean circled the car, his steps unhurried and so very controlled. He circled once, twice and then a third time. Small noises of dissatisfaction and annoyance loud in the empty field.

Finally, he circled back and stood before his brother. The silence stretched until it was almost unbearable. Sam wanted to look up, to see how angry Dean was. He didn't dare. The punishment would be worse than. So much worse.

“Do you like being punished?” Dean finally whispered. Sam didn't make any sound. He refused to look away from the ground. He knew better than to answer that question. “I think you do. I think you're a little slut that likes being spanked.”

He flicked open a folding knife and circled Sam, the dull edge dragging across the skin of his back threateningly. Sam knew better than to close his parted lips or try to control his harsh breathing. He knew better than to think he could control anything about this situation. That was the point. He had no control. He was stripped naked in a basic, primal way that made his lack of clothing seem inconsequential.

“Answer me, slut! Do you like being punished?”

“No,” Sam whispered.

“You're a fucking liar.” Dean shoved him forward, barely giving Sam time to get his feet beneath him before shoving him again. “Against the car. You know you deserve this.”

He bent over the hood of the Impala, his lip sore where it was caught between his teeth. His body was shaking in anticipation of the blows to come. There was no mistaking his panting for anything other than what it was: excitement.

The first stinging slap of Dean's hand scared a yelp out of him. The only response from behind him was a snort of derision as more blows came. With each slap his hips arched against the Impala, his achingly hard dick sliding in the still slick wax.

“You deserve this, don't you?” Dean demanded.

“Yes!” He cried out as the hand made contact with his pulsing ass. His heartbeat was echoing within every inch of his body. He felt raw and over sensitive and soon each slap was wringing a guttural grunt from his throat. The pain of the slap mingled with the pleasure pounding through his veins and soon the two were inseparable in his mind.

“You like being punished.”

“No.” The word was a cry, neither moan nor whimper, simply the perverse meld of pain and pleasure in the form of a word.

“You do!” Dean's hand strayed lower and slapped against his thighs. “You fucking like it.”

The blows faltered suddenly and then Dean's body was pressed flush against him. His hard cock was throbbing through denim into Sam's raw, aching ass. And then he was being jerked back by the fist in his hair and forced even closer to the rough material behind him. Dean looped his free hand around his brother's body and pinched a nipple painfully.

“Beg me.” He lapped at the skin on Sam's neck in one long, profane lick. “Beg me to fuck your ass until you cry.” His teeth sank into the tensed muscles of Sam's shoulder, forcing a whimper.

“Please.” Sam whimpered again and pressed his ass back into Dean's erection. “Please, fuck me. I want it. I do.” He squirmed against his brother, broken and going on instinct. Dean's bruising grip tightened around his hips to stop the movement and his breath came out in an enraged hiss.

“You're going to pay for that.” The sound of his belt buckle coming undone had Sam sobbing and begging. For relief, or restraint or release he wasn't sure. But he wanted. And the feel of Dean's hands on his hips, controlling him, felt natural and reassuring.

He was shoved forward again, his chest pressed flush against the hood of the Impala. His cock once again brushed over the metal and he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut. And then Dean's cock was there, pressing into his ass even as it ached and pulsed from the slaps. This new hurt added to it and washed it away and focused his body's confused acceptance of pain and pleasure as one.

“You're going to come,” Dean demanded. “You're going to come like a slut all over my car and then you're going to lick it clean. Aren't you?” He raked his nails down the long expanse of Sam's back, growling in his throat. “Aren't you!”

“Yes.” He panted, his hips arching back into Dean's thrust and then forward against the slippery wax of the car. The nails at his skin had his body rolling uncontrollably but the hard thrusts behind him never hesitated or faltered. “Dean....” he sobbed, begging.

“Whore,” Dean ground out, his voice and hips losing control in almost equal measure. “Make you pay.” His hand found Sam's hair again and tightened painfully. “Make you drop ... suck my cock.”

“Fuck.” Sam shuddered, his body almost shutting down with the intensity of the sensations flooding through him. He bit his lip until blood came and then surged further over the edge at the taste spilling over his tongue. Behind him, Dean surged forward once more and then tensed, his groan sharp and loud.

Silence rang for several seconds and then Sam burst out laughing, his happy chuckles shaking both their bodies.

“You are such a freak,” Dean muttered, smirking.


End file.
